Of Magic and Muggles
by IRiSEaGLes
Summary: Written for The Houses Competition. Theo Nott watches a young girl down the street, knowing that she's a Muggle. But when her mum and she have a row, she turns to him and tells him a secret.


There was something odd about the young girl who lived in the last house on the street. I mean, I knew girls, and this one wasn't a beauty in the classical sense. And there was her… oddness. She was a Muggle, I understood that on many levels. She didn't have magic. She had to do things 'differently'.

Growing up in a magical Pureblood home, there were things that were expected. Manners, decorum, magic; those were the basics. Vaults full of Galleons and miscellaneous antiques was another. A large manor house. Status. Influence. Marrying another pureblood and carrying on the family name and line.

I put all that behind me once I finished my schooling at Hogwarts. I was done and I wasn't looking back. I walked away from so much, all that was expected of me from the generations of Notts before me and settled down in a quiet, affluent Muggle neighborhood on the outskirts of London.

I heard the street looked like the little cul-de-sac that was in that Muggle movie, Mary Poppins. Tall homes lining both sides of the small cul-de-sac. Everyone had their own quirks, and we all knew each other. I liked it. It was peaceful. It was quaint. It wasn't what was expected of me, nor was it what I expected from myself.

I had decided to make a radical left turn in life at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts. I had survived. Not all my friends did. Not all my family did. Father ended up in Azkaban. Malfoy ended up branded. I had survived practically unscathed. And at that moment, I decided to change.

I still carry my wand. I am a wizard. I don't do magic like I used to. I realize it is a crutch. I can do so much without a wand, cooking is my favorite task. Every day I take long walks around the area, usually ending at the park at the opposite end from my house.

There I watch her. The girl. She is probably only a few years below me, but after what I faced in the last Wizarding War, I feel eternally older than her. She has the freedom that I don't think I will ever feel. She has a lightness to her steps that shows that she never saw the shadow of death as it reached a tendril and stole the life of another person you knew.

She goes out with her friends. She goes to school in a uniform, not that very different from the ones at Hogwarts; only the traditional wizarding robes are missing. She laughs. She cried once over a boy. Her father is not around; he must work long hours. Her mother and she are close, I have seen them together in the park a few times, just sitting and talking.

She asked me my name once and I told her. I never asked hers though. She is a Muggle, and below my station. She waves to me, and I return the polite gesture, but we don't really talk. I just watch.

Today though, she approached me, her reddened eyes still swollen with the excess of tears. Must be another boy troubling the girl.

"Theodore. It's Theodore, right?"

Her eyes, I never really noticed her eyes before. They are the most unusual shade of blue. Not a true blue, or a light blue; not azure or cerulean. They are almost purple-blue, almost a shade of amethyst. They are stunning really, except they contrast terribly with the red that spiders through the whites of her eyes.

"Yes, but please call me Theo. Theodore sounds stuffy." I try to lighten the mood, though I know it will fall on deaf ears.

"May I?" She points to the empty seat next to me, and I nod before rising as she sits, as my upbringing demanded. "I just needed to get out of the house for a bit. My mother. She's, well, trying at times."

"I don't want to prod, but what is the matter?"

She sighs, those amethyst eyes turning on me with an icy fire, "Have you ever been told that you are not who you thought you were?"

Chuckling, "Never. Though there are times I wish I had."

"My mother. Well, she just told me something completely nonsensical. She told me I am a witch. Do you believe that? From a long line of witches and wizards. Like, magic exists or something."

She pauses in what I can only believe is a tirade to come and I take this moment to interject, "Well. What if it does? Would it be all that bad?"

"It wouldn't make sense. I mean, it might explain why I can't keep a boyfriend and they always think I am odd, but no. Magic is for fairy tales that are told to little girls who still dream of their Prince Charming."

That would explain the boy troubles I have seen in her recent past. "Has there been nothing in your life that you couldn't explain?"

"Other than my dad dying in some war that I never heard about in school. Something about Voldy Port or something like that."

I look at her stunned. "Voldemort?"

She turns to me, "I guess," leaving her mouth slowly and much quieter than anything before. "How do you?"

"Tell your mother that he is dead. For good. The Chosen One defeated him for the last time. I was there, I can show her my memories. Go. Tell her it is safe." She stands, looking at me perplexed. "And one more thing: tell her that the Noble house of Nott is at her service."

"Theo. Your last name is - it's Nott?"

My eyes are focused on the girl before me. She looks almost familiar in a way. "Yes. Why?"

"So is mine."

* * *

Author's Notes:

House: Snakes  
Class: Potions  
Drabble  
Word Count: 969  
Prompt: [First Line] There was something odd about the young (boy/girl) who lived in the last house on the street.


End file.
